Chapter Three #3
When Cassie awoke, it took a few moments for her to realise where she was.
A rumpled bed in a huge room with light spilling in from a pair of enormous windows.
A little way off she could hear the sound of a shower and she must have drifted off to sleep again because when next she opened her eyes it was to see Giancarlo standing on the opposite side of the room, fully dressed.
He was wearing a dark suit and another pristine white silk shirt—and was in the process of knotting a grey-and rose-coloured tie as their eyes met.
Suddenly Cassie felt shy. More than that—she felt disorientated. And alone. Had he woken, eager to vacate the bed and the woman who had given herself to him so easily?
Their eyes met for a long moment and he crossed the room to plant a quick kiss on her lips. ‘Good morning,’ he said softly.
‘Good morning.’ But the kiss had felt more perfunctory than passionate, Cassie thought. She looked up at his crisp, cool morning image and the naked man who had taken her to heaven and back during the night now seemed to have left the building. What the hell did she do next?
‘Would you like a shower?’ he asked, as if he’d tuned into her thoughts, and then his voice softened as he ran his fingers through her tousled hair.
‘Don’t look so disappointed, cara. This isn’t the kind of awakening I’d have chosen, but you were sleeping so peacefully that I couldn’t bear to wake you—and, unfortunately, I have an early meeting. ’
Yet even as he said it Giancarlo knew that wasn’t the whole truth.
For hadn’t he woken with regrets on his mind—even while his body had been hardening with renewed desire for her?
He had taken her virginity, and, even though he had made her sexual initiation as satisfactory as he knew how, the situation was fraught with danger.
She might form an attachment to him which he would be unable to reciprocate—and any brief affair they might have would be complicated by his own feelings of responsibility, and guilt.
So wouldn’t it be better to make a clean break?
To let her go now before she got in any deeper—and he hurt her, as he would inevitably hurt her.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
‘Or you could always have a bath, if you preferred?’ he murmured.
Somehow Cassie managed a smile—because you wouldn’t need to be a woman of the world to realise that when a man was besotted with you, he didn’t feel the need to talk about the plumbing arrangements.
She sensed what was coming. A polite but very definite farewell.
But she wasn’t going to cling—or to come over as needy.
She had walked into this scenario with little thought about dignity—but it wasn’t too late to resurrect some now.
‘Don’t worry about a thing—I’m due in at nine. I’ll have a shower and then I’ll go straight to work.’
‘Good. Well, Gina will serve you breakfast—just tell her what it is you’d like.’
Cassie couldn’t think of anything worse than the coollooking Italian woman serving her breakfast—and with her still wearing the same clothes that she’d worn the night before. ‘Thanks,’ she said politely.
‘And my driver will take you wherever you want to go.’
Cassie shook her head. This was awful—just awful—this self-conscious chit-chat as if what had happened during the night hadn’t happened at all.
As if she hadn’t been writhing beneath him while his mouth had explored hers with a sweet passion.
‘No, honestly—I’m going to work and it’s not far.
And the walk will do me good,’ she finished.
Their eyes met during a silence which grew in awkwardness by the moment—and yet what on earth could she say to break it?
wondered Cassie desperately. Especially when the only words on her lips were ones of bittersweet regret that she should have allowed herself to get so carried away and to have lost her virginity to a man who clearly regretted taking it.
‘I’ll ring you,’ he said slowly.
Cassie nodded. But she knew with a horrible aching certainty that he never would.
He’d got what he’d wanted and now it was perfectly plain that he couldn’t wait to get away.
She fixed what she hoped was a nonchalant smile on her lips, because she was all out of bright and breezy responses.
And she didn’t dare move. He might have encouraged her to act with uninhibited pleasure in his arms countless times throughout the night—but no way was she going to walk naked across the room in front of him.
Maybe he sensed her discomfiture, because he left without another word. And once she heard the sound of the front door slamming shut, Cassie quickly got out of bed and made use of the en-suite bathroom, her mind too full to register the unfamiliar luxury which awaited her there.
At least she felt marginally better once she’d showered—even though it was no fun putting on the same clothes and underwear—but at least she wore a uniform at work and she could nip out in her lunch-hour and buy another pair of pants.
The morning was winter at its most beautiful—the sky icy-blue and the frost in the park coating every blade of grass with a layer of ice-white.
She tried to count her blessings. To tell herself that it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that she would never forget and that she would soon get over it.
Well, there was nothing much to get over, was there?
Was it her imagination, or did the usually friendly doorman in front of the glossy gold and claret facade which was Hudson’s look at her rather oddly—or was she getting paranoid? Just because she had probably made the biggest mistake of her life—didn’t mean that she had to start imagining things.
Taking the lift down to the basement, she went towards the changing rooms but before she could push the door open two figures stepped forward to bar her way.
A man and a woman—both wearing familiar dark blue uniforms and curiously forbidding expressions.
Cassie started. Hudson’s security staff?
What were they doing here and why the hell were they looking at her like that?
She felt her mouth grow dry with nameless fear.
‘Cassandra Summers?’ said one of them.
‘Is…something wrong?’ she stumbled as the woman took a pen from her pocket and looked Cassie straight in the eye.
‘Cassandra Summers? Would you like to come with us?’
‘What’s happened?’ she demanded.
‘You have been accused of fraud. And I’m afraid that there’s the potential of police involvement—’
‘No!’ Cassie’s denial cut across the official-sounding words—expecting them to suddenly start laughing.
To say that they’d been put up to it by one of her colleagues and that it was nothing more than a practical joke.
But their expressions were deadly serious.
Staring into their stony faces, she began to tremble uncontrollably as she realised that this was no joke.
‘No!’ she whispered. ‘Please…there must have been some kind of terrible mistake!’